The Truth About Love
by DarkAngelElektra
Summary: ONE-SHOT. When you do the wrong thing for the right reasons...does that make it right? And is the end result enough to justify a broken heart? Melina/John Morrison, mentions of Melina/Batista. Inspired by P!nk's "The Truth About Love".


**A/N: I wrote this one-shot like I write most one-shots: because I was in a weird mood, and I've been having trouble updating my stories. I've been having a lot of issues lately - with work, with writing, with finding time to write - and I wrote this as a way to transition back into updating. I have a new chapter of Let Me Fall outlined, so that's my next goal. So, in the meantime, I hope you enjoy this, as angsty and weirdly ambivalent as it is. Enjoy! Peace!**

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**The Truth About Love**

"_Stop talking about love. It means nothing. It still doesn't mean anything. What you feel only matters to you - it's what you do to the people you say you love, that's what matters..." - __The Last Kiss_

"_The truth about love is it's blood and it's guts..." - P!nk, "The Truth About Love"_

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_October 2007_

"John, wait!"

Melina's spike heels beat a frantic clicking tattoo against the floor as she ran down the hallway, her ankles wobbling unsteadily as each foot made precarious contact with the cement surface. Already, she was regretting her choice of attire to the SmackDown and ECW tapings at the Joe Louis Arena in Detroit - her cleavage was threatening to pop out of her minidress's low-cut bodice, and she kept having to reach back and yank down the back of her skirt to keep it from creeping up her ass.

However, the former Women's Champion's attention wasn't really focused on the limitations of her wardrobe, or on how her headlong rate of speed was verging on leaving her sprawled on the floor with a shattered ankle - right now, these were just inconsequential annoyances, like being caught in a sudden downpour with no umbrella - all of her awareness, all of her care, all of her _concern_ was aimed at the tall dark-haired figure several feet ahead of her. "Just let me explain-"

John Morrison's furious strides didn't slow one bit; he didn't even so much as glance back at the pursuing form of his girlfriend. The muscles of his tall, lean body were coiled and taut, like those of a jungle cat ready to pounce, rippling ominously beneath the black fabric of his t-shirt. With one hand, he raked his long hair back from his face; the other was clamped around the spine of a hardcover book, his fingertips pressing against the cover almost hard enough to leave dents.

The Dominant Diva let out a low frustrated sob - with six inches of height separating her and the former ECW Champion, keeping pace with him was difficult to begin with, and John was showing no signs of slowing down. Decreasing her speed a touch, she sucked in as deep a breath as she was able, expelling it from her lungs in a shrill cry - what the WWE commentators jokingly referred to as the "primal scream" - comprised of a single word:

"_Johnny_!"

At the sound of his nickname - a name that he had dropped along with his "Nitro" gimmick; a name that now only his girlfriend was permitted to address him by - the ECW Superstar halted, but did not turn around. Melina stopped as well, so stunned by her desperate attempt's unexpected success that her mind momentarily went blank.

For several agonizing seconds, neither one of them moved. Finally, the paparazzi princess stepped forward, closing the gap of space between them, reaching out hesitantly to touch her boyfriend's bicep. "Johnny-" she began.

Instantly, the former ECW Champion jerked his arm away, as though her touch was scalding. "_Don't,_" he spat. He sounded like he was speaking through gritted teeth. "_Don't...call me...that_. Not now." A pause, then in a low harsh whisper. "Not after _what you did_."

Melina's full lips quivered, and she ducked her head, strands of her long black hair falling forward and clinging to her face, already wet with tears. "_Please_," Her voice was equally soft, each syllable clearly enunciated but quavering with emotion. "_Please..._just hear me out-"

"_Why_?" Morrison interjected roughly. "Why _should _I?" His back was still to her; he hadn't even turned his head, but Melina could still feel her skin burn, as though her boyfriend's eyes were boring a hole right through her. "After what you did, what makes you think that I want to listen to a single _word_ of what _you_ have to say?"

A huge lump materialized in the Dominant Diva's throat, pressing painfully against her windpipe, threatening to silence her completely. She swallowed hard. "I-"

"_Well_?" A note of sarcasm had crept into Morrison's tone. "Speak up! You wanted to talk...so _talk_."

Just hearing his words in that bitterly ironic tone of voice sent a blade of pain stabbing into Melina's heart - not just because of the cruelty, but also because of the _pain_, the anguish dripping off each syllable, the agony that seemed to resonate as keenly as her own - and it took everything she had not to break down right then and there into hysterical tears. Instead, she drew herself up a little, forcing out her reply with considerable effort: "I never-" Her voice cracked, but she grimly continued. "I never meant...for you to find out like this..."

Her voice trailed off as Morrison abruptly threw his head back and laughed, an ugly humorless sound that echoed off the cinderblock walls and dug into Melina's ears like a parasite. "That...that's _it_?" the ECW Superstar managed to gasp out between wild chuckles. "_That's _your big apology? Not that you _fucked _Dave Batista - only that you let that lunkhead publish it in his fucking _autobiography_ for the fucking _world_ to see!"

Without warning, he whirled around, and the paparazzi princess felt her insides tumble down into the abyss. There was so much rage in Morrison's eyes, in his face - but there was also an even greater abundance of agony, radiating off him like waves of the bitterest cold amid the heat, making his furious countenance more tragic than frightening.

He hated all of them right now - her and the Animal, probably the rest of the roster, too - but it was enmity spawned out of love, out of anguish...and perhaps most of all, out of the sudden death of his own unwitting ignorance.

The former ECW Champion stabbed the hardcover book in his girlfriend's direction like a knife, the harsh fluorescent light highlighting the embossed lettering on its cover - BATISTA UNLEASHED - and Melina found her gaze drifting toward it involuntarily, focusing on the printed image of the former World Heavyweight Champion for an instant before she forcibly wrenched it away and back up onto Morrison's face.

Her boyfriend must have noticed, because the corner of his mouth twitched upward in a brief joyless smile. "Melina and I have become pretty good friends, close physically since my divorce as well as emotionally." His voice was dull and inflectionless, like that of a unwilling student reading his essay in front of the class. "But when she and I first started working together, I didn't like her very much."

His lips jumped again into that empty mockery of a grin. "I don't think she liked me very much either."

As soon as she heard those words - taken from the section of the book appropriately headed MELINA - the Dominant Diva felt a cold nauseous sensation slam into her insides like a sledgehammer, driving all of the air from her lungs until she could barely breathe - a sensation she had first experienced months ago; when Dave Batista had remarked, in an almost offhand manner, that he had written about her in his soon-to-be published memoirs.

At the time, she had merely forced a smile onto her face, responding casually despite the bitter ashy taste filling her mouth - _Nice things, I hope_ - but as soon as the Animal had sauntered out of sight, she had run to the nearest bathroom and puked her guts out...because she had _known_, even then, deep down in her heart of hearts, that _this_ would be the eventual outcome-

Because no good deed goes unpunished...and because the sins we commit out of love are the ones that inevitably tear us to pieces...

And as she stood there, her petite frame aching and trembling with anxious tension, listening to Morrison spit sentences at her from Batista's autobiography like some sort of grotesque parody of a one-man-show, Melina found herself wondering vaguely just _how many _times he must have read over those lines before she had come into the locker room this evening to surprise him and found him with the book in his hands - each time hoping desperately that it was a _joke_; that on _this _time, the words, the _meaning_, would be different...but each re-read only filling his veins with more and more of that irreversible poison known as _knowledge_.

A poison...that had now spread to his heart.

Morrison, meanwhile, was still speaking, the slight tonal shifts in his voice indicating that he was nearing the end of his recitation. "Since then, as I've said, Melina have gotten closer and our relationship has become..." He hesitated for an instant, his voice cracking a touch. "..._physical_."

The former ECW Champion swallowed hard, forcing himself to continue. "She's my friend, and I love her..." Again, that hesitation, that quaver in his voice, that clear struggle to go on etched across his handsome features. His eyes shone brighter than before, and Melina realized for the first time that there were tears brimming in them.

Morrison swallowed again, enunciating each word low and clear as though he was laying down a death sentence: "..._I love her very much._"

A low shaky gasp emerged from the paparazzi princess's throat, and she averted her gaze, staring vacantly at some unseen point in space. Morrison's face was like a mask, his lips pressed together in a thin line, his voice harsh and choked. "You think...that I never saw it?" he whispered after a long indeterminable moment had crept by. "The way he'd look at you - the way he _still _looks at you? I always knew that he had a thing for you, but I never thought...I never _dreamed_...that _you_-"

"I don't-" the Dominant Diva began, her voice shrill and strangled. She stopped, tried again, still unable to meet her boyfriend's eyes. "It wasn't...it wasn't _like_ that-"

"Then what _was_ it like?" Morrison's voice rose to a roar, and with a sudden furious motion, he heaved the hardcover book at the wall. It hit the cinderblock with a painful-sounding SLAP, thudding onto the floor, and Melina involuntarily flinched, squeezing her eyes shut, fresh tears rolling down her cheeks.

The former ECW Champion dropped his hands back down to his sides, his fingers loosely clenching into fists, his gaze fixed on her face. "What was it about Dave Batista that was so damn irresistible, huh? Tell me why I just had to find out from a goddamn _book _that my girlfriend screwed the biggest man-whore on the roster-"

Melina didn't remember taking a step forward, closing the distance between her and her boyfriend, jamming her face into his - all she could recall was her own voice, rising to a scream, driving her back to reality as the words burst out of her:

"_Because they were going to fire you_!"

It was as though all of the air had been sucked out of the corridor. Morrison fell silent, his features going soft and slack with shock - whatever explanation he had been expecting, this clearly wasn't the one. Melina stared up at him, feeling a muddled amalgamation of misery and pity and frustration and yes, anger, too - but anger at _herself_, for putting him through this, for bringing this hell down on both of them. "They were going to fire you." she reiterated softly.

Morrison slowly shook his head. "I don't-" He halted, struggling to form the words. "I don't...understand..."

"Yes, you do," Melina interjected, her voice flat and tired. "You know what it was like - you had become a glorified jobber on Raw; some weeks, you couldn't even get a televised match. They used to joke...that the closest you were ever going to get to a title belt again would be when you held my Women's Championship while I went to the bathroom - and while you laughed it off, I know that you were waiting...waiting for the call...waiting for them to 'wish you the best in your future endeavors'..."

The Dominant Diva looked away for a second, then swung her gaze back toward her boyfriend. "I never talked about it...because you never _wanted_ to talk about it...but one day, Dave asked me why I looked so sad, and I told him...and after I finished, he said that he could help. When I asked how, his reply was: 'How about we discuss it over dinner?'"

Melina laughed, but there was no humor in it. "I knew what he meant, of course - I'm not _stupid_. I knew what I'd have to do...for him to help me - just like I knew what it would do to you, to _us_, if it ever got out - but in the end...in the end, I just looked right back at him and said: 'Sure, what time?' because it didn't seem _fair_, it didn't seem fair that you should lose your job...when I could do something to help..."

Now it was Morrison's turn to look away, biting his lower lip as tears filled his eyes once more. Melina felt a huge ball of emotion swell in her throat, but she bravely went on, her voice growing softer as she struggled to keep it from breaking. "After things changed - after they drafted you to ECW, gave you a title shot, changed your gimmick - I told Dave that it was over. He never asked why...but I think he knew...knew that he was never to going to mean as much to me as you do."

A faint sardonic smile touched her lips. "I think that...writing about me...was his way of revenge - of sticking it to me _and _you by bragging about it in his so-called _memoirs_." She let out a low contemptuous grunt. "Dave has his good points...but sometimes, he can be a real son of a bitch."

There was no response from the former ECW Champion. Melina stared at him, her expression sobering once more. "It says in that book that I slept with Dave Batista, and that's the truth. It says that he loves me, and maybe even that's true."

She took a step toward Morrison, half-expecting him to back away, but the ECW Superstar remained where he was. "But what it _doesn't _say, what it will _never_ say...is that I did it for _you_, that I slept with him to save your _job_ - and that every _second_ of every _day _since, I have _regretted _it because I _love _you, because you are the _only _person who has _ever _mattered to me..."

Her voice trailed off as words failed her. Morrison shifted a little, gazing at her without really meeting her eyes. His expression was unreadable. "Is that supposed...to make me feel better?"

A ghost of a smile hovered for an instant on Melina's lips. "I've been telling myself that...in the hopes that it'll make _me_ feel better, but _now_..." She lifted up both shoulders in a helpless shrug. "I don't know anymore."

Silence stretched out between them, the seconds coalescing into minutes, neither one of them moving, both of them barely breathing - as though they were afraid, that by doing so, they would shatter whatever tenuous connection still existing between them. From somewhere within the center of the arena, a faint melody drifted outward - the opening rock riffs of the ECW theme.

Morrison finally stirred; slowly, as though he was emerging from a dream. "I...should go - I've got a match tonight with Miz; I need to get ready-" Before he could do so, Melina's hand shot out, grabbing his arm. The former ECW Champion jerked a little at her touch, but unlike last time, didn't pull away.

The paparazzi princess peered up into his face, her own countenance a mixture of misery and hope. "Johnny, please, before you go, I need to know..." She swallowed hard, her dark eyes shimmering with tears. "You and I...we're...we're going to be...all right..._aren't we_?"

Morrison stared at her for a long moment, his face suddenly creasing into a smile that was both achingly sweet and sad. "It's like you just said, Mel..."

He hesitated for a moment. "...I don't know anymore."

With that, he gently pulled his arm free, moving around as he walked back the way he had came, leaving the Dominant Diva alone. Melina wordlessly watched him go, his tall figure blurring and then eventually dissolving into meaningless streams of color and motion in her vision as she finally gave in to her tears.


End file.
